


you're cold and i burn (i guess we'll never learn)

by problematiclesbian



Series: self indulgent rejanis fics [5]
Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/F, Friends With Benefits, does it make sense? well i can't promise that, rejanis fucks, they're thirty now and yet somehow.... they're even angstier and more dramatic than canon!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-04-24 12:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19173022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematiclesbian/pseuds/problematiclesbian
Summary: “This-” Janis gasps as Regina presses an opened mouth kiss to her throat. “This probably isn’t a good idea." Even as she says it, her hands reaches out to undo Regina's bra.Regina gives her a wry smile as she tugs Janis’s shirt off. “It can’t be worse than anything we’ve already done to each other, babe.”Well, Janis can’t argue with that.orJanis and Regina are thirty years old and have both hit rock bottom. Regina's extremely public divorce is all over the news and Janis is in the middle of a full on mental breakdown.Obviously the only solution to their problems is to become (barely even) friends-with-benefits





	you're cold and i burn (i guess we'll never learn)

**Author's Note:**

> The first part is a lot of text but we had to establish back story, okay? okay.  
> Imma be real with you, they aren't gonna fuck till chapter two. so. sorry about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Lampshade Hanging (or, more informally, "Lampshading") is the writers' trick of dealing with any element of the story that threatens the audience's Willing Suspension of Disbelief, whether a very implausible plot development, or a particularly blatant use of a trope, by calling attention to it and simply moving on."

“I don’t-” Janis sighs. She shifts a little in her chair. “I don’t believe in fate, you know?” 

 

_ The circumstances that lead to this are completely logical and can be traced all the way back to the dramatic junior year at North Shore High.  _

_ They’d done all the apologies and making up. Senior year was easily the nicest year of High School Janis experienced (although that isn’t saying much). But then they’d graduated and all gone off to different places. Cady to MIT, Gretchen to University of Chicago, Karen to wherever Gretchen was, naturally, and the Queen Bee herself to Columbia, in New York. Janis had picked the California Institute for the Arts, partly because it was a good program, and partly because it was as far from her past as possible. She hadn’t asked him to follow, but Damian had applied and been accepted, with scholarships, to UCLA, so they stayed inseparable.  _

_ At first, they’d all stayed in contact via a very lively group chat, and Facetimes when everyone’s schedules lined up. But Janis had never been very good at communicating, and as she pulls back into herself, she lets their text messages go unanswered. Cady and Gretchen blow up her phone with worried messages, and when she ignores those even Regina sends a late night “r u ok?”, that Janis almost replies to. Damian doesn’t get it, doesn’t understand why Janis continues to close herself off to everyone, but he doesn’t argue with her, either.  _

_ They move to New York together after they finish undergrad, a natural step to continue Damian’s acting career, and Janis comes because she has nothing keeping her in LA. Damian gets his first Broadway ensemble part at age 24, and Janis is front row, screaming when Damian takes his opening night bow. Damian moves in with his boyfriend and Janis rents a wide studio on the top floor of a dilapidated building by the Hudson. Her art starts to take off, in the back alley galleries of Brooklyn, the darkly lit parties in warehouses in Soho, the avant garde exhibits in Chelsea. She’s not mainstream, probably never will be, but in art circles Janis’s name becomes well known.  _

_ From the outside, by the time Janis Sarkisian turns 26, her life is perfect. She’s got her own apartment in Manhattan, a best friend on Broadway, people paying thousands of dollars for her art. But Janis stares blankly into her glass at a party one night and realizes she’s never been lonelier. She asks her agent to find her something, and accepts an offer for a two year residency in Berlin. Damian is sad to see her go, of course, but he seems to understand that this is something she needs to do.  _

_ When she returns to New York two years later, she isn’t better. There’s some untouchable, cold part of herself that Janis keeps hidden, that she locked away the day she left Evanston. Even her art grows darker. At age 29, Janis tells Damian to stop speaking to her. He leaves one final message on her voicemail, saying “I’ll be here for you when you come back, Jan.” She cries because she knows she’s not coming back. Three weeks later, Janis Sarkisian has a breakdown in the middle of a reading in a gallery in the Lower East Side.  _

_ It’s Damian who picks her up at the station. The guard hands her the plastic bag with her personal items, and Janis follows Damian silently out to his car. He sighs as he starts the engine.  _

_ “They’re not going to charge you.” He informs her when the silence gets to be too much. “But you’ll have to do court mandated therapy.”  _

_ Janis nods.  _

_ “Janis… Why are you doing this? Why are you giving up?”  _

_ Janis keeps her eyes on the dark road in front of them and shrugs.  _

_ Damian makes a noise of annoyance at her nonchalance. “You can’t keep this up. One of these days you’re going to have to let us help you. You can’t shut us out forever.”  _

_ “I’ll pay you back the bail money.” Janis’s voice is hoarse.  _

_ “Janis-” Damian cuts the car engine in front of her apartment and looks at her with nothing but pity. He opens his mouth several times as if to speak, but nothing comes out. Janis stumbles out of the car and trudges up to her apartment alone. _

 

At this point in the story, Janis pauses, and the therapist wordlessly passes her a bottle of water. Janis gulps it down. 

“So that brought you here.”

Janis nods and the therapist scratches something down on her notepad. 

“How did you end up at the bar?” 

Janis curls back into the chair and clears her throat. 

 

_ After that, Janis can’t return to any of her usual haunts, lest she see someone she knows and has to face their looks of pity. So late Wednesday night, she gets on the one train and takes it all the way uptown, the Upper West Side, where the old money rich people live. No one will know her here. Then she finds her way to the nearest bar that’s still open and tells the bartender to keep her tab open.  _

_ She’s only been there thirty minutes, maybe less, only on her third drink, when the door behind her opens and someone else enters. The bartender smiles at whoever it is- Janis doesn’t bother to look up from her glass.  _

_ “Your usual?” The bartender asks. _

_ The woman slides a silver credit card across the bar. “Better make it a double.” She says, and Janis feels her whole world stop.  _

 

“Who was it?” The therapist asks. 

Janis glares at her. “You know who it was.”

“Tell me anyway.” 

 

_ Janis chokes a little on her drink and the woman glances over at Janis, rolling her eyes, then does a double take.  _

_ “Janis?” Regina’s voice is shocked, or maybe breathless.  _

_ Janis raises her glass in a lazy salute, because why fucking not. She hasn’t got the strength to be surprised at this latest curve that life has thrown at her. “Regina George.”  _

_ The bartender hands Regina a glass of wine. “You two know each other?” _

_ Regina grins, baring her teeth in a way that makes Janis wince, because it’s so clearly a fake smile. “Something like that.” _

 

“Did it hurt? Seeing her again after all those years?” 

Janis scoffs. “No.”

The therapist gives her a disbelieving look. “This will only work if you’re honest with me. And yourself.” 

Janis bites back her automatic snarky reply and looks down at her hands. After a few moments of silence, she says quietly, “It didn’t hurt. It felt like… It felt like I’d been missing something since I left Chicago, and I looked into her eyes and I… found it.” 

She lets out a strangled, teary laugh. “Is that stupid and dramatic?” 

“No.” The therapist closes her notebook. “I think, given your history, it makes perfect sense.” 

“And it wasn’t fate, okay?! I thought she was in Paris! She wasn’t supposed to be in New York.” Janis runs her hands through her hair and groans. “Ugh. Are we done for today?” 

“One more question.”

 

_ Regina stares at Janis for what seems like an eternity. “What are you doing here?”  _

_ “What does it look like?” Janis snarks back. _

_ Regina rolls her eyes. “Doesn’t really seem like your kind of bar.” _

_ “As if you would know what kind of bar I’d go to?”  _

_ Regina finishes her glass in one drink and sets it down on the countertop harder than necessary. “God. You haven’t changed, have you?”  _

_ Janis laughs humorlessly. “You’d be surprised.”  _

_ Regina looks her over, her eyes scanning Janis’s body, and Janis works to repress a shiver. It’s been a long time since she felt the need to impress Regina George.  _

_ “You’re obviously not in the mood to talk.” Regina finally states, her observation concluded. She picks up her clutch and turns to the bartender. “Put it on my tab?” When he nods, she turns back to Janis. With one slender hand, she pulls a business card out of her bag and slides it down the bar.  _

_ Janis doesn’t look at it, doesn’t take her eyes off of the blonde.  _

_ “If you change your mind.” Regina says, and is it Janis’s imagination or has her tone gone a little softer?  _

_ Janis manages a nod and then Regina is gone, as quickly as she’d arrived.  _

 

“Are you going to see her again?” 

Janis hesitates, her hand resting on the door handle. 

“No.” She says, and then she pushes her way out the door and out of the therapy office. 

* * *

* * *

It’s an alert on her phone that changes her mind.

Janis is laying in bed, even though it’s three pm on Monday, ignoring the missed calls from her agent, Damian, and her mother, when she gets a notification from CNN. 

“Senator Sullivan Divorce?!?” The headline exclaims. “Wife Regina in Shambles After She Catches Her Husband with Golden Girl Katrina Harris!” 

Janis has never clicked on an article so fast in her life. Regina’s name is already trending on social media as Janis sits up in bed and scans the news as fast as the posts appear. 

The photos are pretty scandalous. There are several of Regina’s husband doing cocaine on the bathroom floor, kissing Katrina Harris, and doing things with Katrina Harris that shouldn’t be posted on any website, in Janis’s opinion. 

“God, men are disgusting.” Janis mutters as she scrolls through the photos. 

If she thought the photos were bad, the posts are worse. Janis subconsciously curls her fist in anger as she reads what people are saying about Regina. She’s ninety eight characters into a reply to a particularly misogynistic tweet about Regina and her husband when she realizes what she’s doing and drops her phone onto the bed, her body falling back onto the pillow with a huff. 

“I’m defending Regina George now? Maybe I really am crazy.” Janis says to the ceiling. There’s no reply, obviously. “This explains why she’s back in New York.”

Janis narrows her eyes at a different part of the ceiling. “Yes, I knew she was living in Paris. Is that a crime? She’s in the news all the time, okay? It’s not like I’ve been  _ trying  _ to keep up with her after all this time.”

That’s a lie. Every few months, Janis googles Regina’s name. She’d stopped for awhile after Regina’s marriage announcement because the sickening swirl of her stomach when she read it was something she didn’t want to confront. But yes, she’s kept up on the news of infamous fashion designer/business woman Regina George. 

“Whatever. I’m not obsessed with her. God.” Janis flips off the ceiling and stumbles out of bed. “I really need to start taking my medication.” She mutters to herself. Then she stomps her way to the bathroom. 

* * *

* * *

So it’s really just pure coincidence that Janis ends up on the same block as Regina’s office building the next day. Totally up to chance, in no way planned. 

Of course, Janis didn’t think it would be so difficult to get in. 

 

“I’m sorry.” The secretary says in a tone that implies she isn’t sorry at all. “But I can’t just let you up there. Do you have an appointment?” 

Janis presses her thumbs to her temple. “No,” she sighs, “I don’t have an appointment.” 

“I have specific instructions, and those specific instructions say no one is allowed in.”

Janis sighs again.  “Listen, will you at least tell her I stopped by?” 

The secretary gives a begrudging nod. “Name?”

“It’s Janis. Janis Sarkisian.”

The young woman’s face drains of color. Before Janis even has time to take one step towards the elevator, the girls darts around the desk and grabs Janis’s arm. 

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?!” She taps the bluetooth at her ear. “Bringing Ms. Sarkisian up for George.” She hisses into the headset, dragging Janis towards a different elevator. 

“Of course she has her own elevator.” Janis mutters, earning her a dirty look from the assistant. 

“Ms. George is a very busy woman.” She replies curtly, repeatedly pressing the door close button. “The office is designed to streamline her needs.” 

Janis wonders if she’ll have permanent eye damage from all the eye rolling she’s doing during this visit. 

The elevator opens on another pristine white hallway, the only sound the rapid click of the assistant’s heels as she strides down the corridor. Janis jogs to keep up. 

“Listen,” she starts, starting to regret coming at all. “I can just go. You’re right, I didn’t have an appointment and-“ 

The young woman looks at her in horror. “And have Ms. George find out I let you leave? I need this job, Ms. Sarkisian!” 

Janis takes a deep breath and wishes silently that she had taken an extra Xanax before she left the house. “Okay. Lead on, or whatever.” 

The assistant huffs and types in a long code into a keypad at the door. The door clicks open and she shoves through, dragging Janis with her. 

The assistant in the next room eyes Janis critically. 

“Denise, you know she isn’t taking visitors.” 

The first secretary (Denise, apparently) glares. “This is Ms. Sarkisian.  _ Janis _ Sarkisian.” She emphasizes, like that means something here. 

Janis smiles weakly. “You really can just call me Janis.” 

The second secretary snaps to attention at Janis’s name. “Oh shit.” 

Denise looks on smugly while the second assistant types a flurry of commands onto the computer in front of her. “Okay. You can take her in.” 

Denise balks. “Me? You do it, Veronica!” 

Veronica shakes her head, glancing around like Regina might be hiding behind one of the massive fashion displays in this second waiting room. “No way. I’m not going in there.” 

“I can just… show myself in.” Janis offers awkwardly. 

Both young women turn to look at Janis like they’d forgotten she was there. 

“Yes.” Denise says with relief. “You do that.” 

Janis steels herself and pushes open the massive door after Veronica unlocks it. 

 

The first thought that crosses Janis’s mind is that Regina George is  _ rich. _ Like, giant office where everything is made of glass, rich. Like Lena Luthor rich. Like, probably owns a small island named after herself, rich. 

When the door shuts, Regina, without turning around, calls over her shoulder: “I  _ said  _ I was not to be disturbed, Veronica.” 

“Apparently they’re supposed to make an exception for me.” Janis replies absentmindedly, still taking in the massive office space.

Regina freezes, just for a moment, before she spins her chair around to face Janis directly. “Janis Sarkisian. And here I was beginning to think you lost my card.”

“I probably should have.” 

Regina’s eyes narrow. “What are you doing here?” 

Janis makes her way to the middle of the room, trying to remember what brought her here in the first place. “You’re a mess?” She tries. 

Regina, sitting behind her massive glass desk, looking like the queen in her fucking throne room, shrugs. “That’s what the news says about me, yes.” She looks calm and composed, like Janis showing up yelling in her office is an everyday occurrence. But Janis can see the dark circles hidden with makeup, the tense set of Regina’s shoulders. 

She used to be an expert at reading Regina. Maybe that never goes away. 

“But are you?”

Regina taps one perfectly manicured finger against her lips. “I am not.. where I would like to be in life right now, I would say..” 

Janis nods rapidly. “Me neither.”

Regina raises an eyebrow. “And you came here to tell me this because…?” 

“Because everyone around me has their life together and I can’t fucking stand it.”

One side of Regina’s mouth twitches like she’s considering smiling. “So you ignore me for twelve years and I’m supposed to welcome you back with open arms because we’re both fucked up?” 

Janis falters at the anger in Regina’s tone. “I wasn’t  _ ignoring _ you. I was.. I don’t know, I wasn’t talking to anyone.” 

“Yes, that’s what Damian said.” Regina drawls, turning to her computer as if she’s lost interest in the conversation so that Janis can’t see the hurt in her expression. 

“I was arrested!” Janis blurts out. “And now I’m in mandatory therapy. I had to take four pills just to leave the house today. I keep talking to my ceiling and it never answers me. ” 

Regina’s only reaction to this is to raise an eyebrow. “And is your therapist going to teach you how to have a regular conversation? Because this isn’t it.”

“I mean..” Janis flushes in spite of herself. “I just mean. I don’t know.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “You’re right, I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

There’s a moment of silence while Janis composes herself. 

“Are you here because I’m your only option?” Regina finally asks, her mouth set in a frown. 

Janis opens her eyes and exhales. What she knows she should say is the truth: “I’m here because seeing you in that bar was the first time I’ve felt normal in twelve years.”

But instead, she just shrugs. 

The room is silent.

Regina sighs exaggeratedly. “Well… I can probably fit you in my schedule.” 

“I mean, I heard you’re not seeing any other visitors, so…” 

Regina squints in annoyance at Janis’s self-assured shrug. “You know, we were never very good at being friends.” 

“I mean, we can be more than friends, if you want?” Janis means it as a joke, she really does, but when Regina doesn’t immediately reply, she glances at the blonde and is shocked to see Regina at a loss for words. 

It hits her like a ton of bricks. “Oh… my…. god.” Janis wishes she had a drink so she could spit it out in surprise. “George, are you GAY now?!”

Regina looks furtively around the room. “Will you keep your voice down, please!” She hisses. “The last thing I need is more rumors in the tabloids...” 

Janis ignores her in favor of laughing. “Is that what all that shit when we were kids was about? Holy shit!” Janis drops out of the chair so she can lay on the floor and laugh harder. 

Regina, face still flushed, peers at Janis from above at her desk. “You’ve really lost it, huh?” 

“My therapist is NOT going to believe this.” Janis pretends to wipe sweat off her brow. “Holy shit. I’m crazy and Regina George is a lesbian. Life is really Like That, huh?” Laying here on the floor of Regina George’s penthouse office, Janis’s suggestion suddenly makes sense. They’re both suffering. They both feel alone. Maybe they can bring each other some kind of comfort. Janis ignores the voice in the back of her mind that sounds just like her therapist and who keeps pointing out Janis might just looking for justification to sleep with her childhood crush. 

“Pull yourself together, Sarkisian.” Regina drags herself out of her office chair to tug Janis up off the floor. She straightens Janis in front of her, brushing Janis’s hair back behind her ears. “What the hell happened to you?” Regina murmurs to herself as she looks Janis over. 

Janis is shocked at the measure of actual concern she sees in Regina’s gray eyes. “I’m fine.” She says automatically, dismissively. Of course that’s a lie, but she wants to get that look out of Regina’s eyes. “You’re the one whose life is in shambles or whatever.” She’s distracted, because this close she can see the faint dusting of freckles across Regina’s nose.

Regina raises one delicate eyebrow. “And sleeping with you is supposed to fix that, how?”

“Oh, I never said it would fix anything.” 

Their eyes locked, the space between them is suddenly filled with an unnamable tension, and Janis thinks she might actually be crazy after all, because she looks at Regina George and is struck by the overwhelming desire to kiss her. 

Then Regina shakes her head slightly and steps back. 

Janis exhales, unsteady.

“I think I’m too busy at the moment for any more… friends.” Regina says airily. 

“Suit yourself.” Janis shrugs, ignoring the sting of rejection and uncomfortable under Regina’s piercing gaze- it feels like she can see right through Janis- but determined not to show it. “I’m going to go see if one of your charming assistants can help me find my way out of here.”

“Janis-” Janis turns back to see Regina seated again at her desk and for a moment she can see in her eyes the fatigue and despair that Regina is feeling. Then Regina straightens her shoulders and the look is gone. 

“Thank you for stopping by.” She says, her voice cold and unfamiliar once more. She doesn’t watch as Janis walks out.

* * *

* * *

Days later, in a less manic state of mind, Janis berates herself. 

“Great fucking idea, Janis!” She hisses to herself. “Just waltz into your childhood best friend turned bully turned sort of friend again’s office and proposition her. Genius! It has truly got to be one of your worst manic episode decisions yet.”

“At least I didn’t get arrested this time.” Janis offers. 

“Yes, I’m sure your therapist will find that very comforting.” Janis says back to herself. “And furthermore, how long have you wanted to sleep with Regina George? Cause no way did that idea just “randomly” come to mind.” 

“We are so  _ not _ talking about this.” Janis informs herself, shoving headphones in her ears. 

It’s snowing outside, thick sheets of powder that Janis can use as her excuse for why she hasn’t left the house today. The snow just makes the silence louder, though, muffling everything until Janis feels her hands start shaking with the thunderous quiet all around her, compounding the sense of aloneness. 

That’s why it’s such a surprise when Janis hears a knock on her door. 

She looks through the peephole and chokes. 

Janis flings the door open. “What the fuck?”

Regina, dressed in full faux furs, including scarf and heeled boots, eyes her impatiently. “Charming. Is that how you greet all your guests?” 

“How the fuck did you get my address?” Janis asks as Regina brushes past her and into Janis’s living room. 

Regina sighs. “It really wasn’t that difficult. You’re fairly well known in certain circles, you know. You should look into removing your information from online data brokers.” She scans the apartment with a critical eye.

“My information from… what? What are you doing in my house?!” Janis dives for Regina’s jacket as she drops it carelessly from her shoulders. Janis hurriedly shoves it in her closet and turns back to find Regina going through her kitchen cabinets. 

“You really don’t cook much, do you?” Regina muses, picking up a can, reading the label, and gingerly placing it back down on the counter. 

Janis growls under her breath. “Sorry, I didn’t have a chance to prepare anything since, you know, I didn’t invite you over?!” She grabs her coffee table book out of Regina’s hands and starts scooping up various objects in an attempt to clean. “Did you need something or did you just come here to criticize my decorating choices?”

Regina leans against the wall and watches Janis lazily. “Can’t a friend stop by to visit?” 

Janis slams a cupboard door shut to keep everything from falling out and turns to glare at Regina. “Oh, so now we’re friends? I thought you were too busy for friends.”

Regina shrugs. “Maybe Damian called and asked me to check on you.”

Janis scoffs. “If Damian was worried about me, you’re the last person he would call. Cut the crap, Regina.”

Regina pushes off the wall. “Okay, fine. I was thinking about what you said. About both of us being a mess. And it pissed me off, you know? Because my life was fucking perfect, and I tried so  _ hard _ to make it that way, and then it all just falls apart. Then you come storming in my office and I’m like, whatever, that’s just how fucked up things are, but then guess what?!” Regina throws her hands up in the air. “I can’t stop fucking thinking about you and your stupid  _ offer _ . As if I didn’t have enough to deal with already. So now I’m just sitting in that fucking house, reading all the shit they’re saying about me, and they don’t understand, they don’t know a fucking thing about me, and I’m  _ tired _ of it!” Regina paces as she rants, her heels clicking on the floor, and Janis almost wants to smile because it’s so familiar to the teenage Regina she knew. “They’re like high schoolers! I am so much more than my asshole ex husband, but do they care about any of that?! No! And I’m so fucking tired of it!” 

“So you’re here because…?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you and you understand!” Regina shouts and then stops. Her posture slumps, and she looks at Janis, vulnerable. “You understand, right?” 

Janis nods, her throat too tight to speak, and just like that, the whole atmosphere in the room changes. 

Regina licks her lips and Janis’s eyes track the movement. 

“Tell me why you came to my office.” Regina demands abruptly. 

“I-” 

“Don’t lie.” Regina cuts her off. “I’ve had enough bullshit from everyone else.” 

Janis swallows hard and considers her options. She knows she could lie, easily, and Regina would leave. But she doesn’t want that. After years of not knowing what she wants, everything is suddenly so clear. 

“I missed you.” Janis replies, her voice hollow. “You were always like… the one constant in my life. Even when we were fighting, you were always  _ there _ .” 

Regina studies her with sharp eyes. “You used to hate me.” She reminds her. 

“You used to hate me, too.”

“I never hated you.” 

Janis laughs. “Yeah, well, now I know you were just a repressed lesbian.” 

Regina clears her throat in irritation. “You are still so… infuriating. And confusing.”

And anyway,” Janis continues on, “even when I hated you, I could still acknowledge that you’re hot.” 

Regina blinks, unimpressed. “That’s got to be the flimsiest logic I have ever heard.” 

“We’re gonna fuck either way, so the readers will just have to deal with it.” Janis says with a shrug, tired of the delay. 

“I can’t do anything complicated.” Regina warns, stepping closer. Janis steps back instinctively and feels her back hit the solid wood of the door.

“Nothing complicated.” Janis echoes. “Simple. Easy. Just two people who don’t want to be alone.” 

Regina takes another step closer and Janis inhales, sharp. “We never were very good at being friends.” Regina repeats her own words from the week before, her voice deliberately casual, but her pupils blown wild, her hands already reaching for Janis. 

Janis, head cloudy with desire, struggles to remember her line. “We could try being more than friends, then.” She barely gets the words out before Regina closes the distance between them and Janis surges up to meet her. 

Janis has never, ever, ever let herself think about what it would be like to kiss Regina George. 

In the split second she has to consider it, she expects it to be all teeth and tongue, a greedy kiss typical of the queen bee. 

She’s wrong. 

Regina kisses her slow and deep, the kind of kiss that makes Janis’s knees weak, and her hands instinctively shoot to Regina’s hips to hold on to something, to keep herself upright. Janis is dimly aware of Regina’s hand in her hair, the other cupping her cheek, but the majority of her focus is on the slow, purposeful movement of Regina’s lips against hers. Regina kisses her so gently, thoroughly, tenderly, a thousand other adjectives that Janis can’t think of right now because she’s trying to concentrate on staying upright and kissing Regina back. She whimpers a little when Regina drags her teeth over Janis’s bottom lip, and the kiss breaks because Regina is smirking. 

“Shut up.” Janis says, but it comes out breathless. “Oh-”

Whatever witty retort she was going to give is lost as Regina presses closer and kisses her again, licking into her mouth with a sense of intent that leaves Janis dizzy, her heart racing as every kiss sends sparks shooting through her, and it really shouldn’t feel  _ this  _ good, but it really does. Janis has spent the last few years feeling absolutely fucking numb, but Regina kisses her and she feels alive again. Janis feels her heart pounding in her chest and it’s  _ dangerous,  _ how good Regina makes her feel. 

“This-” Janis gasps as Regina presses an opened mouth kiss to her throat. “This probably isn’t a good idea. 

Regina gives her a wry smile as she tugs Janis’s shirt off. “It can’t be worse than anything we’ve already done to each other, babe.” 

Well, Janis can’t argue with that. 

She can always worry about the consequences later, she thinks, and that’s the last coherent thought she has for the rest of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> projecting? I've never projected onto a character in my entire life and i don't plan to start! Couldn't possibly be me!

**Author's Note:**

> likeapartywithrevenge.tumblr.com


End file.
